


Stupid Boy

by hannahindie



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Dean x Reader, Demon!Dean, F/M, Reader Insert, Supernatural - Freeform, han writes the thing, spn fanfic, supernatural fanfiction - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-11
Updated: 2018-12-11
Packaged: 2019-09-16 13:50:47
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16955250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hannahindie/pseuds/hannahindie
Summary: Dean thinks about mistakes he made when he was still a demon, and finds himself in the last place he expected to be.





	Stupid Boy

**Well she was precious, like a flower  
She grew wild, wild but innocent  
A perfect prayer in a desperate hour  
She was everything beautiful and different  
Stupid boy, you can’t fence that in  
Stupid boy, it’s like holdin’ back the wind**  
  
Dean looked up from his whiskey, the melting ice swirling lazily as he tilted the glass back and forth, and his tired gaze fell on the jukebox in the corner.

“Who the hell put that on?” he griped, his voice deep and gravelly from the alcohol.

Sam looked back over his shoulder to see who the culprit may have been, then looked back at Dean and shrugged, “It’s on random.”

Dean rolled his eyes, threw back what was left in his glass, and waved the bartender down for another whiskey. Sam raised an eyebrow but Dean waved him off before he could say anything, “Don’t. Just don’t.”

“Dean-” Dean shot Sam a dirty look, interrupting whatever chick flick moment he was about to try to have, threw back the whiskey the bartender had just handed him in one swift gulp, and slammed money on the worn wood of the bar as he got up to leave.

“Listen, not tonight. I don’t want to talk about it, I don’t need to talk about my feelings,” he mocked with air quotes, “and I certainly don’t want to sit in this bar and listen to this damn song. Don’t wait up, Sammy.” 

* * *

_“Dean, no, this isn’t you.” Y/N cowered behind the door and cringed as Dean’s fist collided with the cheap wood._

_“Oh, sweetheart, it most definitely is. Good ol’ Dean Winchester in the flesh.” Dean put his forehead against the door and dragged a hand slowly down the worn wood. “Y/N, please, let me in. I promise I’m not going to do anything, I just want to talk to you. Come on, baby.”  Y/N looked around the bathroom for something she could defend herself with._

_“Dean, I’m not letting you in.” Her eyes fell on a pair of scissors that were balanced on the edge of the sink. “You might as well just leave, I don’t want to see you.” The metal was cold against her palm as she curled her fingers tightly around the handles._

_“You know I can’t do that. You should have left well enough alone, but you just kept looking for me. And then you had to tell Sammy where I was. I left for a reason, Y/N. So why don’t you just come on out, and we will talk about this like civilized adults.”_

_Y/N put her free hand on the knob and pulled her arm back to get ready to strike, “Okay, fine. But step back from the door.” She heard Dean chuckle._

_“Alright, sweetheart, whatever you need. Just come out so I can see you.” As soon as she shoved the door open, she swung out with the scissors. Just as she had suspected, Dean had not moved back from the door. Although he had anticipated her movement and attempted to grab her arm, Y/N managed to swing around and  bury the scissors deep into Dean’s chest with a wild, animalistic cry. She jumped back, and stared at him with wide, tear filled eyes. His eyes moved from Y/N’s face down to the scissors that were still sticking from his chest, then back to her. He blinked slowly, and when his eyes opened nothing but black looked back at her. “Shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart. How are we ever going to have a nice conversation when you pull shit like that?” Dean pulled the scissors slowly from his chest and tossed them to the side. “It’s time we talked.”_

* * *

Dean sat in the Impala, watching Y/N’s apartment in silence while occasionally taking deep swigs of whiskey. He had promised himself that he’d leave her alone, stay away from her, and had promised Sam the same thing. It wasn’t healthy, Sam had said, not for Dean or Y/N. And he’d been doing fine until that damn song came on. He hated country music, absolutely despised it, but that song…it reminded him of her.

Before he’d met her, Y/N had already had a rough life. Her family was gone, and from what she had told him, she’d had a bad habit of letting people tell her what to do. Specifically, the men she dated. Dean had never been given the impression that anyone had been physically violent with her, but he could tell by the way she seemed to apologize for everything, even if it wasn’t her fault. It showed in the way she she would get excited about something and then would immediately disregard it with a look of embarrassment as she mumbled about whatever it was being stupid. It had broken his heart to see her feel that way, and he’d always gone out of his way to show her that she never had to be sorry for anything she loved. Over time, he helped her take back control from others and wield it herself.

One day, he had walked into the kitchen and heard Y/N singing. He slowed to a stop and leaned against the door frame while he listened, undiscovered.

**She never even knew she had a choice  
And that’s what happens when the only voice she hears is telling her she can’t  
Stupid boy  
Stupid boy**

“That’s quite a song.” Y/N jumped, a quiet gasp escaping her, and proceeded to smack him with the dish towel she’d been drying dishes with as he walked up to her.

“Dean Winchester, you just about gave me a heart attack!”

He remembered how warm she’d felt as he slipped his arms around her waist and pulled her close. “Sorry, babe.” He put his forehead against hers, “What song was that?”

“Just an old country song I used to sing to remind myself that I could leave whenever I want.” Dean had frowned, worried that she felt trapped like she did with others before.

She gently cupped his cheek and smiled, “I don’t feel that way here, if that’s what you’re worried about. It’s also just a catchy song.”

Dean leaned in and grazed her lips softly with his, “I’ll show you a catchy song…”

Y/N laughed, “That doesn’t even make sense, Dean.” He kissed her again, a little harder than before, and smiled against her.

“It makes more sense if I show you.” He picked her up and began to fireman carry her down the hall towards their room, Y/N laughing the entire way there.

Movement in the window pulled him out of his thoughts and he watched as two figures crossed in front of the lit panes, their silhouettes a stark contrast to the light curtains blocking his view. They paused and the taller of the two figures wrapped their arms around the smallest. Dean felt a heavy feeling in the pit of his stomach, a dark and twisted anger for something that was ultimately his fault as he watched the two lean into each other.

“ **She laid her heart and soul right in your hands, and you had to take her and break her down**. You don’t deserve her, Winchester, and you definitely don’t have any right to be jealous,” he muttered to himself as he started up the Impala. He had made a mistake coming here. If he had looked back, he would have seen the smaller of the two figures rush to the window and push back the curtains at the familiar roar of the Impala’s engine as it sped off.

* * *

_Y/N pulled at her restraints, her shoulders crying out in agony from her body weight pulling down on them. She looked up and groaned. The rope that held her wrists together was also looped around the hook she was hanging from, which made it near impossible to get out of it completely. Her toes barely scraped the floor which made trying to get any leverage useless, and she could feel hot, angry tears threatening to spill down her cheeks as she looked around the room in search of another way out. She wasn’t sure Sam even knew she was gone and if he did, where she may have gone and who took her. She jerked her arms again and a low growl escaped her as she gave up on escaping the rope that was digging into her arms._

_“Tsk, tsk, tsk…I’d think you’d  know better than to try to slip a knot I tied. You might as well quit wiggling so much, you’re just gonna hurt yourself.” Dean appeared from the doorway as he pulled a chair in front of her and swung it around so he could sit in it backwards. He crossed his arms over the back and rested his chin on them as he looked at her. “I wish I didn’t have to do this, but honestly, getting stabbed in the chest makes me less inclined to trust you. Also, I just like the way you look when you’re tied up.” He winked and Y/N glared at him._

_“What are you trying to accomplish anyway? Do you just like torturing people, is that a turn on for you?”_

_Dean chuckled, “I can think of other things that turn me on that are better and way easier than trussing you up like a pig, this is just entertaining.” He tilted his head, “I gotta say though, I didn’t see the scissors to the chest coming. That was kinda hot.”_

_Y/N rolled her eyes, “I’m glad I could oblige your stabbing fetish.” Dean locked eyes with her and they both remained silent for a moment. Y/N narrowed her eyes, “What do you want, Dean?”_

_“I want to know how much you told Sam.”_

_Y/N shifted, trying to find some sort of relief from the rope rubbing her wrists, and grimaced, “I didn’t tell him anything. I didn’t know where you were, not for sure. Not until you made the mistake of turning on your old phone. By then, Sam and I had gone our separate ways. Besides, how was I supposed to know what I would even find when I caught up to you? I wasn’t going to make Sam go through that until I was sure it was safe.”_

_Dean laughed, the sound cold and unforgiving, and it felt like a knife had been thrust into Y/N’s heart, “That’s hilarious! Why in the hell would Sam need you to protect him? What could you possibly do to save him? I’d wager that there is nothing you could do. Unless you were trying to spare his feelings more than anything, and I’m here to tell you, sweetheart…that ain’t gonna happen either. Because here’s the thing; you made the mistake of coming alone and now instead of protecting Sammy from having his itty bitty feelings hurt, he’s going to find your corpse strung up like a goddamn pinata.” Dean stood suddenly and flung the chair away from him. Y/N flinched as it clattered loudly against the stone floor. He grabbed Y/N’s face tightly and was so close that their noses were brushing, “I left for a fucking reason, Y/N. I left because all I want to do is tear you and little Sammy apart piece by fucking piece, but there’s a little, microscopic part of me that doesn’t want to.”_

_Y/N jerked her head away from Dean, which did nothing but make him angrier. “Cut the shit, Y/N. Sam really doesn’t know where you are, does he? You seriously didn’t tell him…how stupid are you?” He jerked her face back towards him, a mixture of amusement and disgust on his face, “You thought…you thought you could save me.” His eyes flashed black, the inky depths almost hypnotizing. “You thought if you came alone, what? You could bat your precious little eyelashes and pout and that I’d just come home and everything would be okay? Well, it isn’t okay and it won’t be. And that microscopic part of me that got me to leave in the first place? He’s dead. Just like you’re about to be.”_

_Just as Dean flipped open the knife he’d pulled out of his pocket, Y/N flinched as the chair from earlier went crashing into Dean and Sam’s large frame tumbled into him. The two hit the floor and Y/N watched as they grappled for a foothold so that they could take out the other. Y/N’s eyes widened as she watched Sam’s huge fist slam into Dean’s face once…twice…three times before Dean seemed to finally give up. Sam fumbled into his pocket and pulled out the demon cuffs he’d brought from the bunker. He clasped them around Dean’s wrists and looked at Y/N, breathing heavily._

_“Took you long enough.”_

_Sam chuckled, then spit blood and wiped a hand across his mouth, “Yea, well. I’m here now. And we got Dean.” Sam struggled to stand and slowly made his way to Y/N. “Are you okay?”_

_Y/N stretched her arms out and rubbed at the raw marks on her wrists, “I’ve been better, Sammy.” She looked over at Dean stretched out in the floor, unconscious. “What are going to do with him?”_

_Sam sighed, “We take him home…and we try to fix him.”_

_Y/N stared down at the man she once loved and her heart ached, “What if he doesn’t want to be fixed?”  
_

* * *

Dean had returned to the bar to find Sam was long gone. He was thankful; he didn’t need a lecture, but what he did need were a few shots of non-judgemental whiskey. He threw back the first two, savoring the burn as it slid down his throat, then waved the bartender down for a third. He nursed the whiskey and stared down at the amber liquid as if it was going to give him some sort of sage advice that would immediately fix the present situation. The glass was halfway to his mouth when someone knocked it out of his hand and it went flying to the floor. Glass shattered everywhere and he looked up, prepared to take out whoever it was that had wasted a perfectly good shot of alcohol. His mouth snapped shut when his eyes met Y/N’s.

“What the hell are you doing here?” She hissed, anger flashing across her face, her normally soft features harsh and unforgiving.

“We had a case-”

“You know what I meant. Why were you at my house?” Her voice was low but dangerous and Dean looked around as heads began to turn in their direction.

“We were nearby….I just wanted to see how you were doing. I didn’t mean….I wasn’t…” Dean stopped, unsure of what to say. He didn’t have a good answer other than he missed her.

“When you miss someone or want to know how they’re doing, Dean, you call or text. You don’t creep outside their house for hours.”

Dean looked at her sharply, “I wasn’t creeping on you and it wasn’t for hours. I just…I needed to make sure you were okay.” His voice was raising and now more people were looking at them. “Can we not do this right now?”

Y/N laughed, a sharp sound that was the complete opposite of what Dean was accustomed to, “You don’t get much choice in the matter since you’re the one that decided to just reappear. We are absolutely doing this right now.”

Dean stood abruptly, “Not in the middle of a crowded bar.” He grabbed Y/N by the arm as if to walk her towards the door and she pulled herself away from him.

“ _Don’t….touch me_.” Her words dripped venom and Dean’s chest tightened at the sound. Before all of this, before the Mark, before turning into a demon, she would have never spoken to him like this. Then again, she hadn’t had a reason to do that before, and now that she did it was all on him. She stormed away from him and through the door towards the parking lot and he followed. She stood next to the Impala, her arms crossed tightly against her. He could see the traces of a tear rolling down her cheek and was tempted to brush it away. Instead, he shoved his hands into his pockets and stared at the ground, unsure of what to say.

“ **What made you think you could take a life and just push it…push it around** like it was yours to control? I loved you, Dean. I did everything I could, even when you tried to kill me, because I knew you couldn’t control it. It wasn’t you. But even when we fixed you, even when you were human again…it’s like every dream I had of us…every plan that we’d had before, it was all gone. **It was like you always had to be right,** that everything you did or said was to protect me. All I heard though, Dean, **was you telling me that I can’t.** ”

“That’s not what I mean to do, all I wanted was to protect you! I couldn’t even protect you from myself, Y/N. How was I supposed to keep you safe from everything else? I thought…I thought I was doing what was best for you.”

Y/N dropped her arms and moved closer to Dean. She looked at him for a moment, silent, and Dean braced himself for whatever was about to come. “You aren’t the first person to say that to me. Being with you taught me that I am strong, _I’m strong on my own_ , and the only person that has a say in what’s best for me…is me. **It took a while for me to figure out I could run** , it took you changing into someone I didn’t recognize, but once I realized that…I did what I had to do. I don’t want your apologies, Dean, what’s done is done. But I need you to leave. I loved you, but I don’t love what you’ve become. Goodbye, Winchester.”

Y/N walked away and Dean watched her disappear into the dark as she turned the corner. He knew better than to try to stop her. As he moved to climb into the Impala, the bar door swung open, and like a final slap in the face he heard Keith Urban’s voice echo into the night.

**You stupid boy  
And now you lost the only thing that ever made you feel alive, oh ho **


End file.
